


Uh

by yeaka



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Ficlet, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-17
Updated: 2017-07-17
Packaged: 2018-12-03 13:53:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11533608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Someone broke Elrond's clock.





	Uh

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Fill for “Clock” prompt [from this list](http://yeaka.tumblr.com/post/162565904960/prompt-list-3).
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own The Hobbit or The Lord of the Rings or any of their contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

It’s been a particularly long day, but after the morning Lindir had, he hardly minds. He feels like there’s an extra spring in his step, and going through Lord Elrond’s letters is a breeze. He sorts them into various piles and scrawls out responses to those that don’t require Elrond’s personal attention. His quill feels lighter, his words politer than usual. He could almost sing, but of course, he’s on _duty_ , and that would be dreadfully inappropriate.

He’s glad he’s remained silent when the door opens a moment later, Erestor slinking through—the only other allowed in without a knock. Erestor gives Lindir a curt nod of acknowledgement and strolls across the room to begin replacing borrowed books on the bookshelf. Lindir continues his work. An occasional motivation is his supervisor’s approval—something Erestor doesn’t give out easily—but the greater motivator is just that these duties serve _Elrond_ , and Lindir would do anything for his lord.

Lindir’s broken from his reverie when Erestor asks, “Was the clock broken when you came in?”

Lindir’s head snaps up. A tiny spark of surprise holds off the imminent blush. Erestor is frowning at the tall grandfather clock behind Elrond’s desk, stiff against the wall, the pendulum still swinging but the glass sporting a long crack down the middle. Lindir silently chides himself; he’s always placed such pride on cleanliness and order, and he can’t believe he missed such a thing. Then Erestor casts him a stern look, and Lindir remembers he was asked a question. He clears his throat and answers, loathing himself for the lie, “I am not sure.”

Erestor lifts one dark brow, and for one horrible second, he’s sure that Erestor’s seen right through him. Erestor is one of the most perceptive elves in all of Imladris, after all, and he keeps a strict run of the household. Lindir finds he can’t meet those sharp eyes and so turns, unseeing, to his letters.

Finally, Erestor looks away, musing, “I will have to ask the guards who came and went from this floor last night and this morning, then I shall conduct interviews.” Lindir stiffens again, because he knows very well that _he’ll_ be on that list, and he passed Lord Glorfindel in coming up the stairs. Erestor casually continues, “Naturally, I will get to the bottom of this. And the culprit will face grave consequences for it, partially for damaging Lord Elrond’s property, but even more importantly, for stealing away afterwards without reporting the incident. Such behaviour is utterly intolerable in this house. I will make sure that Lord Elrond—”

“I did it,” Lindir blurts, before he’s even realized he’s opened his mouth. Erestor instantly swivels to look at him, eyes going a little wide: Lindir’s never seen _shock_ on Erestor’s face before. Blushing thickly, Lindir mumbles, brimming with guilt, “I... I am sorry, but there is no need to conduct interviews...” And _certainly_ not to bring it up with Elrond, much less anyone else; it’s embarrassing enough as it is—

“How?” Erestor asks, looking more incredulous than anything. Lindir takes it as a subtle compliment: Erestor clearly thinks him incapable of destruction.

Yet it’s his fault that his beloved lord’s office is blemished, and he woefully admits, “I... I misbehaved. I was... most naughty. I am sorry.” He pauses to bow his head low, letting his hair fall nearly to his knees before he straightens again to continue, “I will have it mended, of course—I will see to it that it is returned to its original state, and I will never conduct myself so poorly again—”

“Lindir,” Erestor cuts in, still miffed but now stern. “I admit, this is most unexpected, and to my knowledge, you have never made any mistakes of this caliber before now. But I am afraid that is not enough to excuse your behaviour now. I must report this to Lord Elrond.”

Now Lindir’s desperate, and he abandons the letters completely as he swivels to face Erestor. “No, please, that is not necessary—” he starts, only to catch the hardened look in Erestor’s eyes and try again, “H-he should not be burdened which such things; I do not wish to bother him...”

Erestor opens his mouth, likely to insist on Lindir’s fate, when the office opens again. They both glance over at Lord Elrond, tall and beautiful, strolling towards his desk. He stops only when he realizes their expressions, and then he takes a long look at Lindir, who has to duck his head and avert his eyes.

Sizing up Erestor next, Lord Elrond asks quietly, “What has happened?”

“Lindir has behaved badly,” Erestor reports, voice neutral even though Lindir _knows_ Erestor holds some affection for him. Evidently, not enough to overcome justice. Lindir can feel his cheeks burning from shame. 

Elrond, frowning even deeper, asks, “How so?”

“He broke your clock,” Erestor answers, gesturing towards it, and for this, Lindir has to lift his eyes.

Shock flitters across Elrond’s. For a small moment, Elrond is quiet, looking only surprised at the information. But then he dons a slow, wry smile, and he informs Erestor plainly, “He is not to blame, Erestor. Lindir only broke it in that his body was the one thrust against it. But _I_ drove that thrusting.”

Erestor tilts his head for one second, then hurriedly straightens, stiffens, and a pink flush rises in his cheeks. It’s another expression Lindir’s never seen on him. Elrond turns to look at Lindir in the interim, commenting lightly, “I assume you told him this, though I must wonder why you, one who will not accept that he is worthy of my love but at least always strives to please me, would considering serving your lord to be misbehaving.”

Bright scarlet, Lindir mumbles, “It is still my fault. I should have come to your lap when I first sensed your hunger this morning, my lord, so that you need not have caught me against something so fragile.”

Elrond looks almost like he wants to laugh. Erestor seems to be torn between facing Elrond with bewilderment and avoiding their eyes completely. 

Elrond tells Erestor coolly, “I think we can agree that this blame is mine. Yet I would be most grateful if you were to coordinate a repair for it.”

Erestor bows his head, muttering, “Yes, my lord,” and seems to take that as a dismissal. He walks swiftly for the door.

When he disappears through it, Elrond walks forward to lean down beside Lindir’s desk and murmur, “I apologize, my love. I will aim to do a better job of hiding the evidence of my ardour in the future.” Lindir just smiles sheepishly, and Elrond leans forward to kiss him.


End file.
